Hollow
by wolfsbane92
Summary: "The acid in my stomach is churning contemptuously, making my insides hot, and I have to throw up to try get rid of it, but it doesn't go away. The burning is still there, clawing at the walls of my flesh like a ravenous beast waiting to eat my heart."


**A/N: It's nearly two in the morning and I was feeling a little angsty. :)**

**Disclaimer: Duh, I do not own anything Twilight related. Leah would definitely have had a better ending if I were writing it. An ending with Paul, that is. ;D And no imprinting on Nessie...gross. DX  
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I hate you.

You took everything from me, my love, my happiness, my strength, my fire. I was left, broken and alone, sitting here on this very same tree stump as tears rolled down my face and mingled with the pouring rain, just like now. Sobs echoing off the hollow trees, tearing at my throat and making me gag from the force of them. The acid in my stomach is churning contemptuously, making my insides hot, and I have to throw up to try get rid of it, but it doesn't go away. The burning is still there, clawing at the walls of my flesh like a ravenous beast waiting to eat my heart.

You tried to be kind, but truthfully there is no kind way to tell someone that you don't love them anymore. I could tell something was wrong, you had been acting weirdly for a while. I would lean in to kiss you, and you would back away. You no longer responded to my teasing attempts at getting you riled up, you didn't smile at my silly jokes, you even got annoyed with me when I cried because I didn't know what I had done wrong. You always lied and said it was nothing, but I knew better.

You were everything to me.

Countless days I spent with you, the sun warm on our skin as we lazed around the beach during the summer, the heat from the fireplace warming us during winter. The sound of your heartbeat was my greatest comfort, my arms wrapped tight around your wide chest as I breathed in your scent. I felt so safe.

Then you left me.

I can't say I hate Emily, she is my cousin after all. And it's not her fault. It's this stupid wolf gene.

I know everyone hates me. You don't think I get enough from the pack telling me how I should just go kill myself and get it over with already? It hurts, it really does. But I won't tell you that. I quite enjoy watching your stupid face twist with disgust when I replay our "special" moments in my head. Yeah, you go ahead and pretend it never happened. Tell me to shut the hell up, make me run an extra shift, scream at me, but don't ignore me. I can't take it.

To lose the one person I thought I would be with forever, the one person I trusted, loved with all of my heart. You weren't just another boyfriend, Sam. You were everything to me. I ached so pathetically when I was away from you, like my bones were snapping into pieces and my skin was crawling. Like an addiction I couldn't get enough of. Suddenly you just stopped talking to me, not even acknowledging my presence when I tried to talk to you. You would have none of it.

Why do you think I do the things I do?

I'm not a bitch by nature, no pun intended. Everyone used to love me just as much as Emily. Then you had to go and ruin everything.

I hate you.

Seeing you every single day makes me sick to my stomach. But you don't even notice anymore. Your head is too far up Emily's ass to watch me puke my guts up, sobbing as hot tears roll down my face and sting the cracks in my lips. I don't eat because of you, I don't sleep because you invade my dreams. You make me think that none of this imprinting business ever happened, you hold me and tell me everything is going to be okay. Then I wake up to a dark, lonely room and it all comes flooding back to me.

Seth is worried.

He wakes up to the sound of my screams ripping through the air. He'll come running into my room, banging on my door and screaming for me to wake up.

I keep my door locked.

I don't want my baby brother to see me this way.

I'm curled up on the forest floor now, eyes burning because they're all out of tears. I taste dirt as I lick my cracked lips, my body shivering uselessly even though I don't feel the cold. All of my energy is gone, leaving me weak, breathless. I lay here in the leaves and mud, not caring about my hair or clothes. It doesn't make a difference what I do, you won't notice anyway.

I'm hoping if I lay here long enough, I'll eventually just give up and die.

I'm waiting for it to come, praying to God that this pain will just stop. An old rock song comes to mind, one of your favorites. _I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all_. That guy must have been warped in the head. He doesn't know real pain. He doesn't know the raw, burning taste of acid, black dots dancing in front of weary eyes from lack of sleep and food. Deep, crippling, agonizing, blistering pain.

That's what I'm talking about.

But you don't care, do you?

You just go on with your life, not even sparing a glance in my direction.

Does she know you like I do? Does she know about your past? About your future? About your dreams? Of course not.

I know that your favorite color is brown because it reminds you of the woods you love so much. I know that you absolutely hate the taste of fish, although you choke it down with a smile when Emily serves it up for dinner. Don't want to break her poor heart, would we? I should tell her. Then again, I'll probably just get called a jealous bitch.

I'm not jealous.

I'm angry, and hurt, but not jealous.

Obviously you don't want me in your life, you never did. I'm not going to be jealous over something stupid that _you_ did. It's your loss, not mine.

Remember when you cried and I held you close to me? You sobbed your little eyes out, tears streaming down your face as you trembled in my arms. I cried right along with you, sad that my beautiful boy was so upset. You know things are bad when a man cries, my dad used to say.

What about when I cry?

It doesn't matter, right? Just another depressed, heartbroken girl. No big deal.

"Lee?" a voice is asking. Oh look, it's Paul. Great, just what I need right now.

I glare at him, daring him to make some snarky comment like he always does. Like they all do.

"_Get over it, Leah."_

"_Why are you such a bitch? Go die so we don't have to listen to your bitching anymore."_

"_Do us all a favor and jump in front of a semi or something."_

"_Shut the hell up! We get it already!"_

Paul's face is a mixture of concern and disgust. He shakes his head, walking over to squat in front of my lifeless form. He stares down at me, one eyebrow cocked in question.

"You've got to stop doing this, Lee. You're killing yourself," he says softly. I shoot him a look full of poison and he winces. Yeah, he knows what he's said before.

"Dammit, Leah! You're not doing any of us good by wasting away like this!" he yells angrily. I don't see why it matters, Mr. Meraz. I distinctly remember you telling me to go slit my wrists one day not too long ago. But I won't. I want you to feel every ounce of pain flooding through my body, permeating the walls of my conscience and leaving me a crippled, rotting mess.

"You're too weak to even bitch back like you normally do," he grunts disgustedly, shoving my arm. I roll my eyes and let my eyelids droop shut, wanting him to go away. He doesn't. I try making some noise of protest as he picks me up, gently pressing me against his chest as he carries me through the forest. He smells like smoke and fire. I breathe deeply, coughing weakly and groaning as my already bleeding throat is torn up even more. He glances down at me, concern flickering in his eyes. I glare defiantly back at him, hating him for making me seem so weak.

He carries me along like some kind of damsel in distress, the autumn leaves crunching under his bare feet as he walks. I watch his face, observing his expression flicker from anxiety, to anger, to sadness, then back to anger. I feel his chest trembling as he pulls me up closer to him, letting me rest my head against his shoulder.

"Jeez, Lee, you're so light. It's like I'm carrying a damn feather or something," he grunts. The knobs of my knuckles twitch angrily, but I can't move them any further. I seethe quietly as he calls Sam and tells him that he's found me. I can hear Sam yelling about burdens and punishment on the other end of the line. Paul rolls his eyes and snaps his phone shut, shuffling me up closer against him as he walks up the steps to his house. He kicks the door open, not bothering to close it behind him as he takes me back to his room. His house is messy and smells like man. He really needs to imprint soon.

He carefully sets me down on his bed, and my limbs do nothing but flop down helplessly. His bed is comfortable and smells like him, and for some strange reason I find it comforting. I'm in a man's bed, I think, giggling on the inside. I think I really have cracked.

Paul comes back a little while later with a glass of water and a steaming bowl of chicken broth. He doesn't look angry anymore, just irritated. My eyes watch his face as he sets the bowl on his nightstand and takes out a straw, dipping it into the water and sucking in a big mouthful. He glares at me, daring me to defy him as he bends down and places the tip of the straw against my mouth, prodding gently until it's inside. Coolness floods my mouth and I swallow quickly to prevent myself from choking. He sucks in another mouthful of water and holds the straw to my lips. The water is soothing to my aching throat, torn to shreds from screaming and vomit. We continue staring at each other as he releases another mouthful of water, his eyes dark and burning. He pulls the straw away and dips his finger into the water, dabbing it onto my mouth.

"I'll have to get you some chapstick later," he mumbles, gently rubbing at the dead skin covering my lips. His face holds a strange softness to it, an almost affectionate look that contrasts bizarrely with his wild eyes. He picks up the bowl of soup and dips his finger into it, holding it out to me. I turn my head, face burning. He growls and grips my chin, shoving his finger into my mouth. Broth dribbles down my chin and the tears start flowing again as my tongue greedily laps at his finger against my will.

I don't want his pity.

"It's good isn't it?" he says arrogantly, and I hate him for it. His face holds a triumphant look, but I catch a flash of pain in his eyes. I know it well.

I'm not sure if I'm crying from embarrassment or because his soup tastes delicious. He continues using the straw to feed me bit by bit until the entire bowl is empty. He sets it back on the nightstand and looks at me. I'm already falling asleep, belly full and warm from the soup. My eyes drift close and the bed creaks as Paul leans in to kiss my forehead. His lips are warm against my skin, leaving a slight dampness behind as he pulls away. I'm too tired to care that he's crawling in bed beside me. He pulls the blanket up around us and settles in.

"Get some rest, Lee. You're probably mad at me, but I don't care. I just spent seventy-six hours straight looking for your sorry ass, and I'll be damned if I let you die on me now," he grumbles. I feel the corners of my lips tugging upward. The Paul I know is back.

Paul is shouting at someone. I tense as I recognize the voice as Sam's, his rumbling tones echoing throughout the house. My eyes widen and my body starts trembling as the door slams closed. Paul stomps into the room, his face twisted into an angry grimace. He catches my gaze and his face falls. He sighs and crawls back into bed.

"That was Sam. You probably already know that," he says, resting his head on his arm. I nod, staring at the ceiling. I flinch as his calloused hand covers my now clean one, his warmth seeping into my weary bones. He must have wiped me off while I was asleep.

"He's ticked. But I told him he can't talk to you until you're ready for him. Is that okay?" he asks. I slowly turn my head to face him, giving him the most grateful look I can muster. One corner of his mouth turns up into a smile. I can't help but feel a little helpless under his protective gaze, his dark eyes making me feel utterly vulnerable, naked. He tenses as I roll onto my side and snuggle against him, pressing my prickly, bony body against his massive frame. His bulk is comforting, warm, blocking the rest of the world from my vision. It seems like he doesn't breathe for a long while, until finally he exhales and slips an arm around my waist.

"Hey, Lee. It's going to be alright," he mumbles softly into my hair. I nod, pressing my nose against his neck. I feel his pulse beating rapidly under his skin, betraying his unease.

He clears his throat, breaking the silence.

"I know we haven't been the best of friends, but I'm here for you. I don't like the way Sam treats you. I'm pretty ashamed of the way I've treated you. Maybe you can forgive me some day," he whispers. I remain silent, letting his words soak in.

"Thanks," I mumbled finally, my voice barely a whisper. His arm tightens around me and he sighs. The room is quiet except for the whining of the air conditioner. I close my eyes, breathing in his scent. I like the way it mixes with my own, forming a sweet, woodsy sort of smell. His skin is warm under my fingertips, the planes of his chest smooth and wide.

For just this little while, I'm going to forget about you, Sam Uley.

But I still hate you.

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**What did you think? It's my first attempt at angst. Everything Leah is feeling here is what I felt once too. Now that I'm better, I can write on it without wanting to cry. I was going to make it pure angst, but I thought Lee deserved a bit better than that. She really is a beautiful character, and I'm sad things turned out the way they did for her. I'm not sure if what went on here is the bud of something new, or just comfort for the moment. Whatever it is, Leah can be sure that Paul is going to be by her side from now on. :) **

**I know that things don't often turn out like this. But I'm an idealist, I can't help myself. Sad endings are not my thing. Obviously, if you've read any of my other stories. :) **

**Please review! I would love to have feedback!  
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